


What He Wants and Can Never Have

by phantisma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-03
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU off of "What is And Should Never Be" - Sam comes to rescue Dean from the djinn, only he gets caught himself.  The wish he makes changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sam knew it. Knew it as sure as he knew every single freckle, every scar on his brother’s skin. As sure as he knew every sigh, every expression, every move his brother made.

He kept his eyes closed. He kept his arms around Dean’s sleeping body, holding on to what he knew he had no right to want. What he had no right to own. What he had no business holding on to.

Very soon he knew he would have to leave this warm bed, leave the feeling of _Dean_ in his arms. Forever.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was sleep-drunk, slurry and heavy. His hand was hot against Sam’s pulling it over Dean’s hip and dipping down under the blanket to where his cock was just as hot, hard and thick. Dean wiggled his ass back at Sam, pressing against Sam’s own erection, making Sam moan. “Slut.”

Sam pressed kisses into the back of Dean’s neck, letting him curl Sam’s fingers around his cock. Sam pulled along its length slowly. He breathed in the warm smell of Dean as Dean moved enough that Sam’s cock was sliding through his crack, up to the hole that was still loose and lubed from the sex only hours before, when they’d come in from the cold and fell together.

He hadn’t slept. He’d held his brother and fought himself. Fought the truth.

How long had it been? How easily had he given up the truth and surrendered himself to the illusion…to the wish? A week? Maybe more.

 

 

He’d dreamed of a djinn. He’d dreamed that Dean was caught and Sam had gone to rescue him, only he’d been caught as well. It was so real. He could smell the stale, dank air, the stench of rotting bodies. He could hear the whimpering cries, the scurrying rats. Dean’s face swam in front of him, his eyes open, dead flat. He’d screamed his brother’s name before he woke up sweating and scared.

Beside him Dean moaned and pulled Sam back to the bed, back to him. “Sleep Sammy. Too early.”

He was naked and as Dean pulled him up against his body, Sam realized Dean was as well. Sam pulled away, jumped out of bed. Dean half sat up. “What?”

Dean was sleep mussed and confused. Not half as confused as Sam though. “I…I have to go…” He looked around him, trying to place where they were and where the bathroom was. His hands unconsciously covered his nakedness as he headed for the bathroom.

Dean snorted. “Modesty won’t get you anywhere Sammy!”

He got into the bathroom and shut the door. Something wasn’t right. Because he and Dean…they were brothers. And no matter how much Sam had ever wanted…He shook his head and stared at himself in the mirror. Maybe he’d hit his head. Maybe he was dreaming.

Maybe.

He splashed cold water over his face, then realized.

The djinn.

He wasn’t dreaming. The thing with the djinn had been real.

Sam peeked out the bathroom door. Dean was going back to sleep, his naked body stretched out on the bed, one arm thrown casually over his eyes. Sam closed the door and leaned against it.

It was said that the djinn could bestow a wish. The heart’s fondest desire.

Sam shook his head. No. Dean would never…No matter how much Sam wished, no matter what magic…Sam turned to the shower. He stopped, spotting a scar he didn’t remember getting. He lifted his right arm and inched closer to the mirror. Nearly an inch thick in places, it stretched from the shoulder blade onto his stomach.

He needed time to think, to figure out what had happened. Because djinn’s were dangerous. And this? This couldn’t be real. Even if it was everything he’d wished for since he was a teenager. Evil, supernatural wish granting creatures were never a good thing.

He got in under the water and tipped his face into the stream. He was so caught up in his self convincing that he didn’t hear the door open, didn’t see Dean slip into the room, not until the shower curtain moved and Dean’s body was crowding in beside his.

“Dean?”

He grinned up at Sam and reached around him for the soap. “What? It sounded good. And neither one of us really wanted to get up and clean up after…” He waggled his eyebrows at Sam and tilted his ass up.

Sam shook his head and moved out of the spray, reaching to get out, but Dean’s hand on his waist stopped him. “Don’t run away. We’ve got hours before we have to be out of the room.” Dean’s lips pressed to Sam’s chest and Sam froze. Dean pulled back frowning at him. “You okay?”

No. He really wasn’t okay. “I…dreams.”

Dean’s face was instantly concerned, his body shifting closer, his hand caressing Sam’s face. “Dad again?”

“Dad?” Sam breathed the word. Something in the way Dean said that sent chills up his spine.

“It wasn’t your fault Sam. You did what you had to.”

Sam shook his head, not understanding. “What I had to?”

“It was what he wanted, Sam.”

Sam shivered and pulled away from him. He didn’t like how that sounded. He reached for a towel and got out of the shower. Everything was weird. This was wrong…in more ways than the whole Dean kissing him thing.

Dean followed him. “Sam. You gotta listen to me.”

“No. I don’t.” Sam countered, looking for his duffle bag. “I need to get dressed and I need coffee and I need to figure out….” His voice trailed off. Dean’s hand closed around his wrist and tugged.

“Sam. You gotta stop doing this. Every time you dream about it you get like this. That thing inside him was going to kill me. You saved me.”

Understanding slowly dawned. He could almost see the scene in front of him. The demon. The colt. “I shot him.”

Dean nodded, drawing Sam closer. His kiss was soft, his lips tender and warm. “You saved me. You killed the SOB that killed Mom. He was proud of you. I’m proud of you.” Dean’s tongue slipped into Sam’s mouth, his kiss deepening, his arms sliding around Sam’s body.

Sam’s brain was short circuiting. The feeling of Dean’s lips melting any resistance he might have offered. “Come back to bed. Let me show you how much.”

He wanted to…God but he wanted to…especially when Dean dropped his towel and stood there proud and naked and beautiful…when Dean snagged his hand and tugged…when Dean licked his lips and cocked his head toward the bed…and before Sam really registered it, Dean was pushing him down on the bed, his hands sliding over Sam’s skin, hot and gentle. His lips and fingers knew Sam’s body…knew when and where to touch, when to slide, when to hold.

Sam groaned as Dean’s body slid along his, flesh to flesh…and he couldn’t have stopped the erection had he wanted to. His head reeled…because this was Dean…this was every fantasy he’d ever had about Dean. He gasped, pulling Dean’s face up away from his stomach, up to his lips, kissing him frantically, needy and wanting.

“Easy, Sammy…easy.” Dean let Sam roll them so he was on top, his knee finding its way between his brother’s thighs.

“Want you so much.” Sam whispered fervently against Dean’s lips.

“You have me Sam.” Dean whispered back, his legs falling open in obscene invitation. His hand captured Sam’s cock and guided him in toward his ass, tilting his hips.

“Wait. Slow.” Sam breathed.

“You’re such a girl.” Dean sighed. “You’d think it was your first time.”

Sam’s heart thundered in his chest. He expected it to be more awkward, difficult…but Dean was relaxed and open and Sam’s cock seemed to just slide inside him…deep and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make himself move. He wanted this…had wanted it as long as he could remember and now…now he had it and he wanted it to last forever. Dean’s hips hitched. His hands came to rest on Sam’s hips. “Sam?”

Sam nodded, his face brushing over Dean’s chest. He kissed over muscle, up to the hollow at the base of Dean’s neck. Only then did he pull out slowly, then slowly eased back into the heat, the comfort.

He blinked back tears. He couldn’t let Dean see him cry over this…because maybe it wasn’t Sam’s _first_ time, but it was his first time with Dean…his first love…Sam’s hands slid up his brother’s torso, capturing his arms and guiding them up over his head. Dean gripped the headboard as if he knew what Sam wanted. “Don’t let go.” Sam whispered. He wanted to take his time. He wanted this to be everything he could make it…because it wouldn’t be long and Sam would wake up…or he’d be dead…and if he let Dean control it, he somehow knew it would be over too fast.

He kept his body moving slowly, his hips bringing his cock out of his brother, then sliding back inside while his hands explored his skin, tracing over freckles and scars…some intimate and familiar, some new.

There was a bruise dusting the skin just off to the left of Dean’s chest and Sam lavished kisses over the spot, licking lightly along ribs until Dean groaned, his eyes rolling closed, his ass lifting in anticipation of Sam’s stroke.

There was a scar, small and curling and almost pretty just under and inside his right nipple. Sam traced it with his tongue, sucked it lightly between his lips.

Dean’s legs curled around him, pulling him closer. Sam whispered his name over skin damp from his kisses. Breathed it as though anything more would make it all disappear. He’d waited his whole life for this…believed it would never be…could never be…

“Sammy…” Dean’s eyes were open now, staring into him. Sweat dripped from Sam’s nose as he flexed his hips. Sam lowered his face to Dean’s, capturing his mouth. Dean’s lips opened under his, just opened.

Sam licked into Dean’s mouth, over tongue and teeth and back to his beautiful, perfect lips. He’d always loved Dean’s lips.

He’d wished for this. Since Sam was a horny 15 year old watching his brother work under the hood of the Impala. He groaned, as Dean’s ass clenched around him, and he couldn’t hold on any longer. Sam came, collapsing forward.

Dean’s hard cock rubbed against his stomach. Sam lifted up enough to get a hand between them, wrapping that hand around Dean’s cock as he kissed him. Dean’s breathing sped up and his body tightened, coming quickly and spilling onto his stomach.

Sam panted into the crook of Dean’s neck until Dean grunted at him, then rolled slowly to the side. For a long moment the room was silent, then Dean was getting up off the bed. “You still want that coffee?”

Sam looked up at him, startled. “Uh…yeah, I guess.”

Dean picked a dirty t-shirt off the floor and wiped his stomach. “Get dressed then. I’m not taking that naked ass anywhere.” He closed the bathroom door and Sam heard the shower turn back on.

He sat on the bed for a long time, staring at the bathroom door and wondering when he was going to wake up.

 

 

He didn’t wake up though, and two hours later they were on the road. Side by side in the Impala, driving through half familiar back lanes and country roads.

“You sure you’re okay, Sam?” Dean asked, glancing at him. “I mean, you hit your head pretty hard when you hit the wall last night…and you’re too quiet.”

Sam rubbed his head distractedly. “I’m just…a little confused.”

“Confused?”

Sam nodded. “I…had a dream and it felt real…and now…confused.”

Dean frowned at him. “What kind of dream?”

He knew that look, but it took him a minute to place. “Not that kind of dream,” he reassured. He hadn’t had any of the prophetic, psychic type dreams since…since the one that led them to Oregon….where Dean had told him what their father had said about Sam.

“You promised you’d tell me if they started up again.” Dean said quietly, his eyes intense. “You promised.”

“I will, it wasn’t like that.”

“Not since Dad.” Dean insisted, looking at Sam with that intensity. It made Sam woozy.

Not since Dad. Which means they never went to Oregon. Never met Andy. Who was probably dead…or corrupted by his brother. Sam swallowed and nodded. “We…things were different…between us…and…there was a djinn…”

“What, like a genie? Like Barbara Eden? She was hot.”

Sam sighed in frustration. “No, a djinn. They…” He sighed. “The lore says that they feed on humans, but it doesn’t really say how. They grant the human being a wish, and the payment is their souls.”

“Pretty heavy price for a year’s supply of chocolate or something, isn’t it?”

Sam shrugged. “Not everyone wishes with their stomach Dean.”

“You are a like a walking encyclopedia of weird shit.” Dean looked at him again, his eyes narrowing. “What did you wish for Sammy?”

Sam shook his head. “Forget it, it was just a dream.” He looked up, starting. There was someone in the road. Looking right at Sam. He started to yell for Dean to watch the road, then realized that the man in the road was Dean, his eyes accusing.

The front of the Impala hit him and he vanished. Dean swerved off the road and parked. “You are starting to freak me out.”

“I thought…I saw something. In the road.”

Dean turned to face him. “Tell me what you wished for in that dream.”

Sam exhaled explosively. “You.”

“What?” Dean’s hand was warm on his shoulder and Sam fought the urge to shake it off.

“You. This.” He gestured between them. “I wanted you…wanted you to want me as much as I wanted you.”

Dean frowned at him. “Sam…you were the one who fought this for so long, kept telling me how wrong it was…right up until you had to decide between this and Stanford.”

Sam couldn’t quite look at him. Couldn’t believe him.

“You took that black dog off Dad that night, and it took out half the skin on your side.” He poked at the place where Sam had found the unexplained scar. Dean blushed and looked away. “I flew into the ER and into the exam room and kissed you. Took you by surprise. Dad was still yelling for me from the room down the hall. Told you I didn’t care about wrong…but maybe you should go, so you wouldn’t get hurt.” Dean smiled and kissed Sam’s hand.

That wasn’t the way Sam remembered it. His father had forbidden him from that hunt, a punishment for…something Sam couldn’t remember. Dean had teased him, ruffled his hair. Sam had gotten hard, just like he did whenever Dean touched him. Once his father and brother were gone, Sam had masturbated in the shower and laid down on his bed with his acceptance letter.

He’d decided then and there that he couldn’t be with Dean if he couldn’t _be with Dean_.

The arguments that followed were something of a relief. Let him distance himself from the gnawing desire, let him walk away.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

“Sam?”

“What if…” He looked up at Dean. His brother’s face was concerned, intense, beautiful. So what if this was the djinn? Did Sam really care?

“You’re thinking that maybe this is the dream?” Dean asked gently.

Sam nodded miserably. “What if…what if this isn’t how it’s supposed to be? What if the djinn changed it?”

To his surprise, Dean didn’t just laugh it off. “Okay encyclopedia boy, what do we know about djinn?”

Sam shrugged. “Not much. They’re mentioned in the Koran…but none of the lore is very clear.”

“But you said they grant wishes, and then take your soul?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you’re still here. Soul more or less in tact, right?”

Sam looked at him, hoping…more than hoping. His stomach tingled with butterflies. “I guess?” He wanted to believe that. He wanted this to be real. He wanted to kiss his brother…to touch him and be touched by him.

“Then that’s that. It was a dream. Now, we need to get moving, I promised Bobby we’d pick up that haunting in Bisbane.”

 

 

That was that. Sam let himself believe it. Even if the djinn had granted him this wish, to have his brother…to have Dean as his lover, his partner…even if…what harm was there? Nothing else had really changed. Their father was still gone, and so Sam had killed him in that cabin in the middle of no where instead of just wounding him…and yes, that meant the YED was gone too. That had to be a good thing, right?

And Sam had never gone to Stanford, so Jess might still be alive. And his father had never made a deal with a demon for Dean. He’d never told Dean his big secret, never made him the guardian over Sam’s soul.

Sam watched his brother as they drove, as they ate, as they researched the haunting of a town mall. Dean was…well Dean. Nothing was different about him. Except maybe his mood was lighter, his smile bigger.

And there was the fact that he kept palming Sam’s cock under the table at the library. Not to mention the filthy things he whispered in Sam’s ear as he got up from the table.

It could be all kinds of worse.

“I’m just going to put this stuff away.” Sam said, pulling away from Dean’s hand for the millionth time, and rolling his eyes at Dean’s pouting face. He piled up the books on local history. “You do the microfilm.”

He headed off into the stacks with the books. He was half hard from Dean’s playing, and his mind was on all the ways he could pay Dean back when they got back into the car. He shelved his books, and as he looked up, Dean was standing…just standing half way down the aisle.

Sam stood, squinting. He wasn’t real. Sam closed his eyes, breathed in and out. When he opened them, Dean was gone. He moved cautiously toward the spot where the apparition had been, looking around. His eyes roamed over the books and he slowly bent down, starting when he saw him again, on the other side of the stack.

Sam raced to the end of the row and around. Dean stood, his face pale, his eyes sunken. Sam moved toward him. “Dean?” He held out a hand and the image wavered. “You aren’t real.” Sam closed his eyes again and when he opened them, he was alone.

There was no doubt it was Dean…but not a ghost, not when Dean was near the front desk flirting with the librarian. What else could he be though?

Sam turned to leave, knocking a book off the shelf. He bent to pick it up and his hand shook as he read the title, _Djinn in Myth and Folklore of the Middle East_. He shoved the book onto the shelf and hurried out of the aisle.

Dean was waiting for him at the front door. “Let’s go get this thing.” Sam said, pushing the apparition Dean out of his mind.

“What happened?” Dean asked, pulling the car keys out of his pocket.

“Nothing, I just want to get the job done.” Sam put on his best lustful expression and leered at Dean over the roof of the Impala. “So I can finish what you started in there.”

Dean grinned. “Now, that’s a reason to get some work done.”


	2. Chapter 2

She went down easy, the ghost of a woman who died on the land, rather than sell it to developers and by midnight they were pulled off the road out of town with a six pack of beer and a pizza and a warm summer night.

All around them waist high grasses swayed to the soft breeze. Sam lay back against the windshield, sipping his beer, watching Dean’s throat as he swallowed his in big gulps. It wasn’t the first time he’d stared at that particular part of his anatomy…and thought about how it would taste.

He didn’t have to think about it now. Didn’t have to hold himself in check, force his eyes away. He was allowed to look. Allowed to taste. Sam splayed his hand across the middle of Dean’s back and leaned forward, leaned in, his tongue sliding up the thick cord of muscle, sweeping over sweat-salted skin to the dark hollow behind Dean’s ear.

Dean’s moan was all the invitation Sam needed to open his mouth, pulling Dean’s ear lobe into his mouth, teasing it before sliding forward on the warm metal of the car, open mouthed kisses, slow, tender…from ear up to stubbled jaw.

By the time Sam reached Dean’s mouth, Dean was fumbling, his hand searching for Sam’s face, his mouth open, his eyes half closed. “Dean…” Sam’s breath carried the word into Dean’s skin, into open lips.

Dean breathed Sam’s name back to him and Sam swallowed the sound, naked with need. Dean’s hand cupped to Sam’s face, then slid down to hold the back of his neck, pulling him in. Dean guided Sam back, down until he was laying against the hood. His hand plucked the beer bottle away and tossed it into the grass. His hand slid to Sam’s belt, working it open, getting the zipper down and his hand into Sam’s jeans. All the while, Dean’s mouth never left Sam’s.

Sam lifted his hips when Dean sat up and pulled on his jeans. He tossed those into the grass too, his lips moving over Sam’s neck, down over his collarbone, onto his chest. His one hand worked Sam’s cock while Dean’s mouth worked his nipple, nipping and sucking until Sam actually yelled.

Dean was grinning at him as he lifted up. “Maybe we should get them pierced…then I could really tug on them.” Before Sam could reply, Dean descended on his other nipple. His hand left his cock, moved lower, under. Sam started when it entered him, dry and unexpected. “Dean…” He arched up. 

Dean waited until he’d settled back to the car, then kissed down his stomach, leaving his finger there inside him. Not moving or pressing…just…there. It was hot and incredible and frightening how much it turned Sam on. 

“Eager boy?” Dean joked as he reached Sam’s cock, which was hard and curling toward his stomach, the tip starting to leak slow pearls of pre-come.

“Dean…” It came out like a needy moan and Sam’s head clunked against the car as Dean opened his mouth and sucked the tip of his cock. “God…Dean…” 

He lifted up and grinned at Sam again, then opened his mouth wide, making a big show of going down on Sam. Just as his lips closed and he started to suck, he pulled his finger out and pushed it back in with a second finger. Sam cursed, bucking up, his cock slamming into Dean’s throat.

Dean pulled up and off and Sam shook his head. “Shit, sorry…sorry.”

Dean’s fingers moved inside him and Sam bucked again. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Dean murmured. “I must not be taking good care of you Sammy. But that ends now.” He pulled his fingers out and moved away.

Sam propped himself up on his elbows, sudden panic that he wouldn’t finish. “Where you going?”

Dean just grinned at him and opened the passenger side door. He rummaged around behind Sam and emerged a moment later, a bottle of lube in his hand. “I’m going to fuck you proper, little brother…open you up and feel around inside you…slick up my cock and fill you up…gonna make you come…make you feel every inch…”

Sam watched him slick up his fingers. Dean murmured to him to lift up, to bend his knees, then pulled him a little closer to the edge of the hood. His finger was cold and wet as it eased into him. It made Sam feel like he was sixteen again…only instead of Brian Bell and the bed of a Ford pickup it was Dean…his Dean…and the Impala…the two mainstays of his life…the two things that brought him out of exile in Stanford…Only here he never went to Stanford, never had a Dean look alike fuck him when he couldn’t stand the need anymore at sixteen…never lost himself in Jessica just so he could pretend to be normal.

Sam closed his eyes, his hands gripping his knees and pulling them up and away, giving Dean more room. Dean grunted in appreciation, but his concentration now was on his hands…on the fingers moving in and out of Sam and the one’s curled around Sam’s cock. 

Electric current rippled up Sam’s spine when Dean crooked his fingers inside him, strumming over the hot spot and then grinning up at Sam. “Maybe I need to get out that butt plug you like so much…the one that presses just right here?” He pushed against it again and Sam arched up off the car, his cock dribbling. 

“Fuck…I’m gonna come already Dean…” Sam gasped. Dean’s hand pulled away from his cock and his eyes sparkled. 

“Can you come like this?” He strummed over the spot again and again and Sam writhed.

“Dean! Fuck…Dean…” He was yelling, and he couldn’t get his ass back to the hood of the car as Dean pressed harder, faster, sideways, down, sliding out and poking into it hard and fast. Sam started to reach for his cock, but he was too late, his orgasm ripping from him, spilling come all over his chest. 

Sam eased back to the car, panting, and before he’d even opened his eyes Dean’s hands moved, and his fingers slid free. His cock pressed in and his hands settled on Sam’s hips, pulling him closer until his ass hung off the car.

Sam held his breath as Dean pushed in…so much more than his fingers, hot and thick and hard and Sam was fairly certain the world could end and he wouldn’t notice, not as long as Dean was there, inside him…just like that.

He grabbed at Dean, pulling him frantically, reaching, wanting to taste him, kiss him…the car rocked as Dean leveraged himself up, into Sam, pushing. With this position Sam could barely reach his arms, and he held to them, just above the elbow, his hands gripping tight. 

“Dean…please…want you…want you.” He shook his head, pulling himself up, even though he knew his position was precarious. His hands inched up Dean’s arms as Dean tried to keep his rhythm. “Need to taste you Dean.” 

Dean groaned with the strain as he took most of Sam’s weight and Sam’s lips found his. Sam’s tongue flicked over his mouth, into the corners, over his teeth. Dean stumbled backward…away from the car. “Sam…” He grimaced and his knees gave, sending them to the ground and rolling them.

“Fuck, Sam…just…fuck.” Dean stopped their rolling, pushed Sam’s knees up, nearly to his ears and fucked into him wildly. Sam couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t control the way his heart clenched. He’d given up on ever having this…ran away from the need…ran away from Dean.

Dean’s pace stuttered and he grunted. Sam felt the hot spill of come inside him and Dean kept fucking, kept coming, until it was oozing out, down Sam’s ass, into the ground under them. When he was finally done, he eased out, collapsed beside Sam, panting and staring up at the night sky. 

It took Sam a few minutes to gather himself enough to even look at Dean. More incredible than Sam inside Dean that first time, this was… unbelievable… everything he’d imagined and more.

“You okay?” Dean asked, suddenly leaning over him.

Sam nodded, blinked at suddenly very wet eyes. “I’m…good. Very, very good.”

“Are you…you’re not crying are you?”

Sam shook his head. “No. Must be the grass or something. Allergies.”

Dean snorted. “You are such a girl sometimes.”

He started to get up, but Sam reached for him and pulled him down to kiss. “I love you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re getting all sentimental on me Sammy.”

Sam chuckled and let him go. “Wouldn’t want that.” 

Dean helped him up and Sam went looking for his jeans. 

“We should get on the road, let Bobby know we handled stuff.”

Sam nodded as he got himself back into his jeans. “Want me to drive?”

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you kidding? With you acting all weird on me? Don’t hardly think so.”

“Just offering.” Sam grabbed the last of their beers and stashed them in the back seat before sliding into the passenger side. 

Bobby’s place was a good two or three hours away, so they should be there by dawn.

 

_Jessica sat beside him, her smile soft, her hand on his thigh. The plane ride had been smooth, though he’d been preoccupied with the strange phone call from Dean the night before. Dean. Who almost never called him, then out of the blue calls him drunk and rambling about some creature that attacked him._

_Sam smiled at Jess, raised her hand to kiss it. He pressed his lips to the ring he’d given her and she giggled, just like she did every time. Mom was going to be so happy._

_Dean was there as he looked up, sitting on Mom’s steps, a beer in one hand, his smile huge. He got up and started toward the car, toward them. Sam smiled tightly, wondering just how drunk his brother was already._

Sam gasped and sat up, looking around him. 

“Who’s Jessica?” Dean asked.

“Girl I knew in Stanford.” Sam answered without thinking. He shifted in his seat next to Dean. 

“What?”

Sam looked at him confused. “What?”

“Stanford?”

Sam shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know…stupid dream.”

“You sounded happy.”

“Did I?” Sam was uncomfortable, disoriented. The dream had felt real…but like he didn’t actually belong there. Like it wasn’t his dream. “I was…engaged…or something.”

“To this Jessica?”

Sam shivered and looked away, out the window. They were nearly to Bobby’s. “Yeah, it was weird. Mom was alive….I was thinking she’d be happy.”

“Mom?”

Sam nodded. “Weird, huh?”

“No weirder than you lately.” Dean made the turn onto Bobby’s street. “Maybe you should get some sleep when we get there.”

“I was just asleep Dean.”

“No, I mean the real kind, in a bed…for more than two or three hours.” He glanced aside at Sam again. “I mean it. I’ll get Bobby to give you something if I have to.”

Sam sighed and gave in. “Yeah, whatever. I am tired.”

“Good.” Dean stopped the car and Bobby emerged from the house, waving. 

Sam followed his brother into the house, listened as he and Bobby bantered, then Dean was looking at him, and Sam could feel it. He turned and Dean flicked his eyes meaningfully to the stairs. Sam nodded, figuring Dean would explain to Bobby, and headed for the room where they crashed when they were here.

Sleep would do him good. 

 

_Everything was bright, beautiful. Jessica beamed. His mother was smiling and happy. Dean sat across from him, forcing a smile. Sam looked down at Jessica’s hand in his, at the ring. There was champagne, Carmen kissed Dean. There was no twinge of jealousy, no sting. Sam smiled at his brother. He was getting married to a beautiful woman and his mother was there, happy, proud._

_The restaurant was crowded and there was a lot of distraction as they stood to leave._

_Then Dean got a strange look on his face and wandered away. Sam watched, saw him chasing nothing. When Dean turned back around he looked confused, worried. The brightness dimmed. Something wasn’t right._

Sam opened his eyes. The room was still, quiet. Dean was asleep beside him. Sunlight lay in scattered puddles on the floor from the worn out and hole-filled curtains. Sam sat up slowly, working at not waking his brother. He padded on stocking feet to the window. 

It was late afternoon. Bobby was down in the yard. Sam could hear him, but not see him. With a sigh, Sam pulled on his sneakers and headed down. There was the perpetual pot of coffee and Sam paused to pour a cup before he headed out into the yard. He followed the sounds of Bobby’s hands and tools against metal, rounded a pile of junkers and found Bobby, his head under the hood of an old El Camino.

“Sleep good?” Bobby asked without looking up.

“Yeah…it was good.” Sam answered, sipping on his coffee. “Thanks.”

“No thank you, and your brother, for dealing with that ghost. I’ve been swamped.”

Bobby stood up right and reached for a wrench. He stopped and squinted at Sam. “You okay?”

“Dean keeps asking me that too. I’m fine.” 

Bobby shrugged. “Your brother worries. He loves you.”

“I know. But I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look spooked.” He went back under the hood. Sam watched him for a bit, then inched closer.

“Bobby…what do you know about…djinn?”

Bobby straightened up and tossed the wrench, pulling a filthy rag from his pocket to wipe his hands. “Djinn?”

Sam nodded. He was holding his breath. “I mean, I know the basics. They’re said to bestow gifts, grant wishes, right?”

Bobby snorted. “For a price.”

“Right. But…what price?” He swallowed and paced away, setting his coffee down on the workbench. “I mean…none of the lore is overly specific.”

Bobby crossed his arms. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing….not really. I’m…curious.”

“Your brother says you’ve been having strange dreams, acting weird since that run in the other night with that crazy wizard guy. Said you cracked your head.”

Sam wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I—I don’t know. I’m having trouble remembering stuff. You know? Stuff I should know. And sometimes…I feel like…like it isn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

Sam growled in frustration. “This. Me and Dean. Dad.”

Bobby took the few steps to Sam’s side, lifted a hand to Sam’s face. “This about your Daddy?”

Sam shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. I…I remember it different.”

“What do you remember?” 

Sam took a deep breath. “Dean and I got Dad…went to the cabin. Dean thought Dad was possessed. I was scared.” Sam turned away. “Dad’s eyes went yellow. He had Dean against the wall, was squeezing the life out of him. There was blood. I broke free…got the colt. Shot him in the leg.”

“Sounds about how Dean tells the story, Sam.” Bobby said.

Sam shook his head. “No…I…He begged me to shoot him in the head. Ordered me. I couldn’t do it. Then the demon came out of him and we ran. Had to get Dean and Dad to a hospital. I drove.” He closed his eyes, remembering his desperation. “I kept trying to get them to talk to me. It was so quiet. I had to turn the radio on or I was going to go crazy with the quiet.”

He blew out slow, tried to gather himself. “I didn’t see it coming. Thought we were clear…then it just plowed into us. We didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know how long we laid there before someone found us, before they came for us…hours. I was in and out. When…when the doctors finally let me up…Dean was in a coma and Dad was…beat to hell. He sent me to you to get stuff. Said it was for protection, but it wasn’t. He…summoned the damn demon, traded his life for Dean’s.”

His last words had been angry, accusing. He should have known something was wrong…just from the look on his face, from the way he said he didn’t want to fight. Should have known.

He realized Bobby was still there, still looking at him. He shook his head. “I know…I sound…like I’m just trying to make it not my fault, right?” Sam dragged a hand through his hair. He was starting to wonder what was real. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Son. You did the right thing.”

Sam closed his eyes. Maybe he really was just going crazy. Maybe the guilt was driving him to reach for anything to make it go away. “I don’t know, Bobby…It seems so real. And not just that…this whole…other life.” He shook his head and looked away.

Dean. 

Sam blinked. The apparition looked different. His eyes darker, sunken. They looked through him. Sam shivered.

“Sam?”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Dean was gone. “Yeah, Bobby. I’m okay.”

“You keep saying that.” Bobby said. “I’m thinking maybe you and Dean need some down time. You’ve been running full tilt since your Daddy died. I know a place, quiet, sanctified ground. You boys could rest, get your heads on straight.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wasn’t overly keen on the whole idea of going to ground. Sam had reasons well beyond getting past whatever was going on in his head to want it though. A few days with just Dean. Just him and Dean, alone in a quiet cabin with no one around for miles and days to spend touching and kissing and fucking until neither of them could move…it sounded like every fantasy Sam had ever had his whole life, all wrapped up in one.

Sam dozed while Dean drove, half aware of some song on the radio, familiar Dean-music, classic hard rock, but on soft enough that it didn’t seem to interfere with Sam’s sleep.

It was comfortable, despite Dean’s uneasiness with the idea of giving up the job for a while. Sam let himself drift. 

“Shit.” 

Sam lurched up, only to have Dean push him down again as the car came to a stop. Dean turned the car off and slunk down in his seat too.

“What?” Sam asked softly.

“Cops. A lot of them.”

Sam inched up, looking over the dashboard. Dean had them pulled into the parking lot of a bar. Up ahead on the road there were a half dozen police cars. “Road block?” Sam asked and Dean shrugged.

“Just not sure we should risk it.”

They watched for a bit, but the blockade didn’t appear to be clearing up. “Can we get around?” 

Sam pulled the map and flashlight out of the glove box. “Looks like we can, but only if we backtrack nearly fifty miles.”

Dean chewed on his lip. “If we pull out now, they’ll think we’re trying to avoid them.”

“Which we are.” Sam said. He glanced over the back seat and out the back window. “We could go inside. Maybe shoot some pool.”

Dean eyed the police a moment more, then nodded. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Which was wishful thinking. They’d had to be careful, way more careful than before with the whole bank robbery thing putting them on the list of FBI’s most wanted. Okay, maybe not most wanted…but wanted enough that things could get downright uncomfortable. 

Sam followed Dean into the bar, which seemed busy enough that they shouldn’t stand out. They’d just lay low for a while, shoot some pool, have a few beers. 

It would be fine. The cops weren’t looking for them specifically. No one knew where they were. They were looking for someone though, and it was better not to offer up their faces and the new license plates if they didn’t have to. 

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Sam said as he delivered beer to the pool table Dean was leaning over to rack the balls.

Dean was in full on vigilant mode, his eyes scanning the room, checking the door, his hands on his cue stick light and ready to use it as a weapon if he had to. “You break.” Dean said, sipping on the beer. 

Dean leaned against the wall, watching the door. Sam pulled a stick off the rack and sighted down it. The balls cracked together and scattered around the green felt. 

They were half way through the game when Dean touched his shoulder. Sam looked up. Two officers were entering the bar, their eyes scanning the room. Sam and Dean moved instinctively so their backs were to the men.

“You think…” 

Dean glanced over his shoulder, then shook his head. “Just play it cool. Take your shot.”

Sam couldn’t concentrate and his shot ricotched off the wall and sent one of Dean’s balls sliding into the pocket. He rolled his eyes and stepped aside, making room for Dean. The officers were working their way through the room, any minute they’d be right there.

“We’re looking for two guys, brothers.” Sam froze, his eyes meeting Dean’s. He was ready to fight. Ready to run. One of the officers was showing a picture to one of the guys at the other pool table. The guy turned, his eyes skipping toward Sam. 

Sam couldn’t hear what he said, but the officer was coming toward him now. Dean shook his head, warning him to stay calm. The officer looked Sam full in the face. Sam swallowed and hoped his face didn’t show how anxious he was.

“Excuse me.”

And just like that he was gone, heading to the back of the bar. A big guy near the dartboards yelled and threw a punch, and chaos erupted. Dean pulled Sam out of the way of a flying body and they hovered near the wall, watching the fight.

Any other time, Dean would have joined in gleefully, even if it meant a trip to lock up…but they couldn’t afford that now, not with Hendrickson on their tail. Sam flinched when the bartender hit someone with a huge right fist.

Dean chuckled when the cop went skidding on a floor suddenly soaked with beer, then hid behind his own beer when the cop looked his way. It was strange, watching a fight like this from the sidelines. It didn’t take long before there were more cops pouring in the door and one by one the brawlers ended up getting thrown out the door and into the parking lot.

Dean tossed off his beer and headed for the bar. Sam reached for him, tried to bring him back. “Just want another beer, Sam.”

“Dean.” He looked up as two more cops came in, circling the bar. Dean smiled at them and kept moving.

Sam shook his head in disbelief at his brother as Dean swaggered back to him, nodding at the cops who were taking one last lingering look around the bar. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, bad mood suddenly gone. “Another game, Sammy?”

 

Two hours later when they left the bar, there was no sign of any police. Dean hummed to himself as they got back in the car and got them on the road. He seemed relaxed, happy.

It was only another few hours to the turn off to the cabin. Bobby had told them it was built on ground where there had once been a church. The cabin had once been the home of the preacher there. It was used as a retreat. A place Bobby himself went to from time to time when he needed time away from the hunt.

It didn’t look like much in the dark, but Sam figured they’d probably stayed in worse places. There was a small porch, a pile of wood stacked neatly on the side, trees all around.

“I’ll bet it doesn’t get cable.” Dean muttered as he got out of the car and opened the back door to get his duffle.

“We’ll just have to make our own porn.” Sam said with a smirk. Dean grinned and nodded.

“I like that idea.”

Sam crinkled his nose as they headed for the door with the flashlight in his hand.. “Smells like rain. We probably should bring some wood inside.”

He hauled his duffle and the bag of food Bobby had packed for them inside while Dean followed with his duffle. The cabin was just one room, a bed, a table and two chairs, wood burning stove and not a whole lot else. There was a lantern on the table, and Sam was already fumbling in his pocket for a lighter.

It was quiet. 

Sam sighed into the silence, stretching muscles sore from the car and the stress. “I’ll get some wood in here.” Dean offered and Sam nodded, tossing him the flashlight and flipping open the lighter. 

He dropped his duffle on the bed and the groceries on the table before lighting the lantern. He started to empty the bag of mostly canned goods. At the bottom of the bag there was a book. Sam frowned and lifted it. “Djinn and Other Wish Myths”

Bobby must have figured Sam wasn’t going to let it go. Bobby knew him pretty darn well. He huffed and set the book aside. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about it.

He wanted to get a fire started and pull Dean into bed, and spend the next few hours convincing himself that this was real. Sam shoved the book into his duffle bag. He’d worry later.

It was nearly two in the morning. Not that Sam was tired, but Dean had to be. He looked up as Dean stomped in the door with wood. “That’s enough for now.” Sam said.

“It’s freaking cold!” Dean exclaimed, rubbing his arms.

Sam reached for him, grinning. “I’ll warm you up.” Dean raised an eyebrow that clearly said that Sam was a cheesy whore. Sam kissed him and Dean dropped his rubbing to pull Sam closer. His mouth slid over Sam’s, opening just enough to tempt Sam to lick into it. 

When he pulled back, he pointed at the pot-belly stove. “I aint getting naked without some heat in here.”

Sam chuckled and nodded. “Then I guess I better get with the fire starting.” 

 

It was nearly dawn and neither one of them were anywhere near sleep. Sam spooned around Dean, his arms holding his brother against him, so that their hearts beat together. A soft red glow spilled from the open front of the stove, making Dean’s skin seem warmer and more beautiful. Sam kissed over his shoulder and down his bicep.

“Sam?”

“Hmmm?” 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Sam murmured, spreading kisses down Dean’s neck. 

“Don’t get mad.” Dean cleared his throat, but didn’t turn to look at him. “It’s about what you told Bobby.” 

Sam closed his eyes, shook his head. “Bobby shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“You really don’t remember?”

Sam sighed and rolled to his back, staring up into the ceiling. “I remember….it’s just…different.”

“Like the dream was different?” Dean asked, rolling now too so he was facing Sam. 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.” He didn’t want to be talking about it…not now, not when he had Dean and they were…maybe not happy, but as close to it as they’d ever been. “I…think maybe I wished for this and now I’m the only one who remembers the way it was before I wished.”

“And, you wished for me?” Dean’s hand was warm as he pressed it to Sam’s chest.

Sam nodded. “You never…we…we weren’t together. I went to Stanford Dean. Almost graduated until you came for me because Dad was missing. I didn’t kill him…I…the yellow eyed demon isn’t dead…but Dad died anyway and now…”

“And now you’re here. With me, and Dad’s gone…and so is that son of a bitch. But you’re still not happy.” Dean frowned at him.

Sam closed his eyes. “You have no idea how happy Dean.” Sam said, pulling him down to kiss. “You…I’ve wanted you…this…for as long as I can remember…”

“Then let go.” Dean whispered into Sam. “Forget the rest and be here.” He pressed his hand against Sam’s chest. “Be with me.”

Sam nodded slowly, eyes closing as Dean’s lips covered his mouth, his tongue delving between Sam’s lips. The kiss was slow, languid…Dean’s hands cupping to Sam’s face as he slowly straddled Sam. 

Dean’s weight pushed against him, held him tight to the mattress, held him to the moment. He rubbed his cock against Sam’s. Dean’s hands slid down his neck, over his shoulders. He drew Sam’s arms up, over his head. “Let me show you what _this_ is.” Dean said softly. His kiss slid off Sam’s mouth, pressing to the corners of his lips and up to his cheeks, chasing over the delicate bone, down to his ear.

Sam sighed and settled under him, turning his face, offering Dean his neck. Dean kissed and licked from his ear, slow, gentle…down to Sam’s shoulder, down to the curve where shoulder meets arm…down Sam’s arm to his elbow…over muscle to Sam’s hand. Dean lifted Sam’s hand, kissing over the palm, slow…tiny touches of tongue over dry skin until Sam was whimpering with need for more.

Dean’s eyes met his as he licked up Sam’s forefinger, circling the tip with his tongue before sliding the finger into his mouth…and back out…then repeating it with his middle finger and ring finger. Sam’s cock was begging for the same attention, pressing up into Dean’s stomach.

Dean kissed his way back up Sam’s arm, pausing to lick lightly along the inside of his elbow, making him squirm. He laved over the corner of Sam’s collarbone, then opened his mouth, sucking at the skin. Sam groaned, moaned, hitched his hips against Dean as teeth and tongue moved over the skin, then the sucking again…and Sam realized…belatedly, that Dean was marking him.

His mouth moved over skin until he was back to Sam’s mouth…his kiss just as slow, just as languid. When his kiss chased Sam’s other cheekbone and down his neck and over his shoulder, Sam was sure he was going to come before Dean even got to his fingers.

Dean paused with Sam’s hand in his. “You that easy, Sammy?” 

Sam wasn’t convinced that the noises coming out of his mouth were words and Dean’s smile was wicked before he repeated the finger sucking and the slow kissing back up Sam’s arm. Sam was panting, pushing up against Dean, looking for friction, but Dean arched his back, pulling himself away until only the very tip of his cock was touching Sam’s cock.

“Dean….” His voice was squeak, his cock a hot fire of need. 

“Not done with you.” Dean whispered before dipping his head to suck down Sam’s collarbone, his tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of Sam’s throat, then flicking up over his Adam’s apple. Sam swallowed against the feeling. His hand fisted in the pillow above his head.

When Dean’s tongue flipped over Sam’s nipple and his mouth closed over it, sucking hard, Sam’s cock was spewing uncontrollably, without having ever been touched. Sam felt himself blush as Dean lifted his head, glanced down at the sticky strings decorating Sam’s chest, then up at Sam’s face. “Still not done with you…hope you can handle it.”

He lowered his head and went right back to his slow movement over Sam’s body. As he neared the first string of come, Dean’s tongue slid out over Sam’s skin, licking up the gooey mess. Sam felt his cock start to harden again at just the sight of his brother licking up his come, but when Dean’s mouth rose to his, when his come-covered tongue slipped into Sam’s mouth, Sam could barely breathe for the hotness, his cock over sensitive and hard and aching.

Dean chuckled. “Slut,” he whispered. Sam just nodded. 

“Don’t stop.” Sam said as Dean shifted. Dean kissed him again before slipping down. 

“Not stopping…just moving…” Sam started when Dean’s lips closed on the tender skin at his hip. Just as slowly as Dean had worshipped Sam’s arms, he moved over Sam’s leg, over the round of hip, onto his thigh, around his knee…down his shin to his foot. Sam’s eyes rolled closed when Dean sucked on his toes before sliding up the inside of his leg, slowly bending the knee and spreading the leg to the side, opening Sam up.

His tongue traced lines up Sam’s inner thigh, up to the crease of leg and groin, his lips kissed up that crease and over Sam’s belly, pausing at his navel to lick lightly, making Sam writhe and moan. Just when Sam was sure he was going to move past without touching his cock, Dean’s tongue flicked over the tender tip and Sam arched up involuntarily. 

Dean chuckled and went right back to his kissing and licking…down Sam’s leg to his toes and back, up the crease to hip, across to his navel. He stopped then, looking up Sam’s body. Sam was panting again, ready to beg, but Dean just dropped his head, opened his mouth and took Sam in, all the way to the base and off again.

“God…Dean…please…”

Dean chuckled again, pressing kisses all over the base of Sam’s cock, licking down to his balls and slowly pulling each one into his mouth until Sam’s ass was off the mattress, his whole lower body arching up.

Instead of easing him down, Dean moved Sam’s legs, hooking one knee up over Dean’s shoulder and before Sam could say a word, Dean’s tongue was sliding through his crack, up to his hole and laving over it. “Relax Sammy…right here.” Dean murmured, his words sliding over Sam’s skin. “Let me show you.”

Sam’s head tossed on the pillow as Dean’s tongue was joined by a finger, then another and Sam’s insides were white hot and liquefying. He was begging, reaching for his cock, whimper and moan and _pleaseDeanpleaseDeanplease_ until his whole body was shaking and he was coming again, almost as heavy as the first time.

Dean eased him down to the mattress, eased up between his legs, his own hard cock pointedly weeping as he guided it into Sam. “That’s it Sammy…give it all to me. Want it all.” 

Sam gasped as Dean entered him, and again when Dean grabbed his cock and pulled, milking every ounce of come he could get before Sam was grabbing his hand, making him stop. Sam’s cock screamed, and didn’t soften, but it was too much…too much…and then Dean was filling him, pulling out and falling to the mattress beside him.

The first rays of morning were creeping in the window. Dean curled around Sam, held him close. “Get some sleep…I’m not done with you.”

Sam couldn’t argue…hell, couldn’t move. He pulled Dean’s arm up and over his side, pulling it to his chest. “Such a girl.” Dean murmured, though it was warm and loving and Sam let go just a little more.

 

_”There’s a cop car outside.” Sam said into the phone, peeking through the dinky motel curtains at the car and its lights._

_“You think it’s for us?” Dean asked in his ear. “I don’t see how…I mean we ditched the plates, credit cards.”_

_Sam breathed in relief as the car pulled away. “They’re leaving. False alarm.” He turned to the table littered with books. Images of djinn and assorted other middle eastern beasts stared back at him._

_“See? Nothing to worry about.”_

_“Yeah, being fugitives…freaking dance party.”_

_“Hey man, chicks dig the danger vibe.”_

_“You got anything yet?” Sam looked down at the books and shook his head lightly._

_“How could I? You got me sifting through like 50 square miles of real estate here.”_

_He sat down and exhaled. “That’s where all the victims disappeared.”_

_“Yeah, well…I got diddly squat. How about you?”_

_Sam pulled a book closer. “Just one thing…I’m pretty sure of it now. We’re hunting a djinn.”_

_“A freaking genie? What, you think these suckers can really grant wishes?”_

_“I don’t know. I guess if they’re powerful enough.” He ran a hand down the text on the book nearest him. “Not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants, I mean djinn have been feeding off people for centuries.”_

_“My god, Barbara Eden was hot, wasn’t she? And way hotter then that Bewitched chick.”_

_“Dean, are you listening to me?”_

_Sam frowned. “Dean?” The motel room seemed to morph around him. The Impala was parked beside an old abandoned building. Sam moved closer. The door was unlocked. He gripped his flashlight tighter in his left hand, there was a knife in his right. He held it up. Dark red blood dripped from the blade._

_Lamb’s blood. He remembered that. Silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood to kill the djinn. His feet made an inordinate amount of noise of the floor. He was jittery, jumping at shadows and the sound of the wind through broken windows._

_His foot his something that rolled away and he flashed his light at it. Dean’s flashlight, broken. Sam swallowed and adjusted his grip on the knife. He rounded a corner and stopped. The first of them was dead…long dead…more dried out husk than human. Sam moved carefully along the line of them._

_He started when he found Dean, his eyes open and staring, sunken and dark. He snapped his fingers. “Dean! Wake up Dean.” He checked for a pulse, relieved to feel it there under his fingers. “Dean.”_

_A moan to his right distracted him. Sam looked at the girl. She was in worse shape. “Dean, come on.”_

_A hand closed around his throat and Sam fell backward. He swung the knife, but it was knocked away…then there was an eerie blue light…and then nothing…_

Sam jerked awake, jumping from the bed and all the way to the door of the cabin. His naked body was slicked with sweat. He was panting and shaking. The dream had felt real. Was real. Sam closed his eyes and dragged in air. Dean was…somewhere out there, tied up and…drugged or something…

Only Dean was right there, in that bed, slowly rolling over and reaching for Sam.

And both couldn’t be true. 

“Sam?” Dean was squinting and frowning and adorable as he half sat up looking for his brother.

“Yeah…just need to pee.” Sam said, reaching for a pair of pants. He shoved his feet into his shoes and stumbled out into the bright afternoon sun, hoping Dean wouldn’t follow. He needed to think. 

It was real. There had been a djinn. A real djinn and it had Dean. He shook his head. It obviously had Sam too. But then…what was this? 

Sam stumbled away from the cabin and toward the nearest trees. He needed a little distance. Needed to think.

Dean had been right there, tied up and slowly coming awake. But now? Maybe this was how the djinn did it…tricked its victims into thinking they were living a real life…a wish granted…while it slowly drained the life from them. 

He stopped a good distance from the cabin and let down his fly. He really did have to pee. He closed his eyes and let it come. When he opened them he was face to face with the ghostly Dean. His eyes were darker still, his pale skin marbled with black lines making him look bruised. 

“You’re not real.” Sam said to the ghost. “Unless you are real…in which case I’m not real. Or something.” He finished his business and tucked himself back in. “See…I have a brother. He’s waiting for me back in that cabin…and he’s mine…and he loves me.”

The image of Dean twitched, shifted aside and back, like a ghost. Maybe that’s all he was…a ghost of what was before. 

But a part of Sam knew that wasn’t true. Dean was dying and right there before him was the proof. “Just…let me have today?” He closed his eyes. “Just today?” When he opened his eyes again, Dean was gone and he was alone in the woods.

“Talking to yourself, Sammy?” Dean asked behind him. 

Sam turned, smiling. This Dean was so vibrant, his skin golden in the sun, his smile beautiful. “Just thinking out loud.”

“You were gone a long time and the bed got cold.” Dean pouted, that lower lip jutting out at Sam and Sam leaned in, sucking it into his mouth. Sam’s arms circled his brother’s body, warm and lithe and real. He breathed in the scent of him.

“I want to spend the day touching you.” Sam said into the crease of Dean’s neck. “Want to touch every inch of you. Want to mark you and make you mine forever.” As he talked he moved them, making Dean step back until he was against a tree. Sam’s mouth closed over his and Dean’s lips opened, his tongue inviting him inside. 

Sam pulled Dean’s arms above his head and pinned them before kissing his way to Dean’s neck. “I’m going to start here.” His one hand kept Dean’s hands pinned while his other slid down over his bare chest. A voice in his head kept whispering that this wasn’t Dean…not really. Sam pushed it away and held on to the illusion. 

_Just give me today._

Sam’s mouth found its way to Dean’s nipple and Dean moaned, and Sam chuckled against his skin. “Now who’s the slut, Dean?” Sam asked.

“Sam…” Dean’s hands pulled, and Sam let him go, sliding down his brother’s body and unzipping him. His cock was already hard, just waiting for him…as if this Dean was his own living sexual fantasy.

Sam pushed the thought away and opened his mouth, sucking lightly, then a little harder.

“Jesus! Sam!” Dean’s hands were in his hair, threading through it and and fisting as Sam licked over the tip, under the head, down the underside. Sam forced his mind to quiet and concentrated on Dean’s cock…on the length of it, on the way it felt on his tongue…silky smooth and powerful all at once…on the way it felt when Dean’s hips thrust forward and that cock slid into Sam’s throat. 

Then Dean was yelling, coming, holding Sam’s head as he filled Sam’s mouth and Sam swallowed him down. Sam grinned up at Dean as Dean released him. He stood, slowly tucking Dean back into his jeans. “Like the way you taste.” Sam murmered, kissing over skin that had begun to chill in the cool breeze.

Dean’s hand closed around the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him to his mouth, kissing him and turning him until Sam was pressed against the tree. “My turn.” 

The bark was harsh against his back, but Sam pressed himself against it as Dean’s hand dipped into his jeans and tugged his cock out. Sam closed his eyes and tilted his head back as Dean’s tongue teased his slit and tickled under the head.

There was a cool breeze blowing now, raising goosebumps over his skin and making the heat of Dean’s mouth seem all the hotter. Dean hummed and his hands caught Sam’s hips, pushing, holding while his head bobbed faster and faster and Sam groaned as he felt his orgasm building.

Thunder rumbled, shaking the ground under them and Dean didn’t even flinch, just quickened his pace. Sam arched up away from the tree, pushing further into Dean’s mouth.

The first drops of rain were big and cold, dripping through the leaves. Moments later it was pouring and Sam’s knees went rubbery as Dean sucked deep and hard, pulling Sam over the brink. He swallowed as Sam came.

Dean was laughing and shaking water out of his eyes as he stood. Sam had never seen him that happy. Dean crowded him against the tree and kissed him. Sam chased after him when he pulled away, but Dean shook his head, splashing Sam with water from his hair. “Inside….getting cold.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

The ground was muddy, as they ran for the cabin, slipping and laughing. Sam shivered when Dean pulled him into the warm, the cold air rushing in behind him. “Hungry?” Dean asked and Sam nodded. 

“Cold.” He went to stand by the stove. Dean’s arms slipped around him and unzipped his fly.

“Then you should take off these wet pants.”

Sam leaned back against his brother, against the strong pillar of him. “Thought you were cooking…”

“Wouldn’t want you getting sick.” 

Sam smiled and nodded. He let Dean peel the jeans down and stepped out of them. “Now, you go lay down. I’ll make lunch.”


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sam knew it. Knew it as sure as he knew every single freckle, every scar on his brother’s skin. As sure as he knew every sigh, every expression, every move his brother made.

He kept his eyes closed. He kept his arms around Dean’s sleeping body, holding on to what he knew he had no right to want. What he had no right to own. What he had no business holding on to.

Very soon he knew he would have to leave this warm bed, leave the feeling of _Dean_ in his arms. Forever.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was sleep-drunk, slurry and heavy. His hand was hot against Sam’s pulling it over Dean’s hip and dipping down under the blanket to where his cock was just as hot, hard and thick. Dean wiggled his ass back at Sam, pressing against Sam’s own erection, making Sam moan. “Slut.”

Sam pressed kisses into the back of Dean’s neck, letting him curl Sam’s fingers around his cock. Sam pulled along its length slowly. He breathed in the warm smell of Dean as Dean moved enough that Sam’s cock was sliding through his crack, up to the hole that was still loose and lubed from the sex only hours before, when they’d come in from the cold and fell together, food forgotten on the night stand in the frantic pull and slide of bodies 

He hadn’t slept. He’d held his brother and fought himself. Fought the truth. If he slept the dreams would come again. Sam knew what he had to do. He was almost ready to do it…he just needed a little more time.

He moved so his cock slid home and he sighed into Dean’s skin. “Love how this feels,” he whispered. He rocked them together, a tender counterpoint to the frantic fucking of before. This was the last time he’d have this. He wanted to remember it…wanted it to last. Dean was sleepy enough he didn’t protest, his head laying back on Sam’s shoulder, his eyes closed.

He pulled his hand down Dean’s cock…Dean pressed back, taking Sam’s cock deeper into him. “Dean…” Dean’s body moved with his, and for the moment Sam forgot to breathe…forgot to think…there was just him and Dean and nothing mattered. Nothing. Just this.

Dean groaned as Sam’s come flooded him. Sam bit into Dean’s shoulder, licked the spot and kissed his way up his brother’s neck. Dean’s orgasm spilled into Sam’s hand, hot and sticky. Dean lolled back against him, his body warm and pliant. 

“Mmmm…Sammy…” He leaned back, his mouth searching for Sam’s, open and wet. Sam tilted his face, caught Dean’s mouth with his own, tongues tangling, even as he stared into the corner where the ghostly Dean was staring at him.

“Shhh….sleep Dean.” Sam whispered, soothing Dean back to his side and moving so his cock slipped free. “Middle of the night.” Dean’s eyes closed and Sam laid back on his side of the bed, staring into the corner. 

As Dean drifted back to sleep, Sam stood, moving slowly so he wouldn’t wake his brother. He dressed in the still damp jeans and dug around in his bag for a shirt. His hand fell on the book instead. He set it on the floor and pulled out a t-shirt. 

He knew what he had to do. Sort of. He needed to find that warehouse, the djinn. Maybe if he killed it, everything would go back to normal. He looked up at Dean asleep in the bed. Because this, no matter how much he wanted it, just wasn’t right, wasn’t normal.

He crept across the floor and opened Dean’s bag, pulling out the silver-bladed hunting knife his brother had gotten from Bobby years before. He could stop somewhere on the road and get lamb’s blood. He just had to get out the door before Dean realized he was leaving.

Which was easier said than done. The old cabin had squeaky floor boards and a squeaky door and the cold air would fill the room as soon as he opened the door. Sam stopped, his hand on the handle and looked at Dean. “Goodbye.” 

He closed the door as quickly as he could and jogged to the car. The rain had let up, but the ground was mushy. He could only hope the Impala would make it down the rutted dirt lane to the road. 

 

He circled the car, checking the tires. When he heard the creak of the Impala’s door, he looked up to find Dean seated behind the wheel. He sighed and opened the passenger side door. Dean held out his hand for the keys. 

“What are you doing Dean?” Sam asked, leaning into the car. 

“Driving. Give me the keys.”

“Where are we going?” Sam asked, trying to play it off. 

“Obviously, you’re not going to get this genie thing out of your head until we go hunt it, and I’m not letting you leave my ass stranded out here in the middle of god-forsaken nowhere. Give me the keys and get in the car.”

Sam didn’t even try to argue or lie, just slid into the seat and handed over the keys. Dean brought the engine roaring to life and backed them up enough to turn them around. 

They were both quiet for a long time as they headed back toward the nearest town. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Dean asked finally as they neared the point of having to make a turn.

“Illinois.” Sam said softly. “It was in Illinois.”

Dean nodded and got them headed out on a back country road aiming in roughly the right direction. 

“Did you sleep?” Dean asked after a while.

“Not really. Dreams…” Sam shook his head. “I keep seeing…you.”

“Me?” Dean frowned at him, the turned his eyes back to the road. The headlights cut through the dark, but there was nothing in front of them but empty road.

“You…and you look worse every time. Like…you’re fading away.”

Dean pressed his lips together. “This…me…it’s the me in your other world? The one where you and I don’t…” His hands came off the wheel and fluttered around.

“What? Fuck?” 

Again with the dirty look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, Dean. I think that’s exactly who he is.”

“And you want to go back to him?” There was hurt in his voice.

Sam couldn’t look at him. He wanted to say no…that he wanted to stay…to have this…but he was afraid if he did, Dean would stop the car…and the next time he saw ghost Dean…he’d be dead. 

“It isn’t that simple.” He finally managed, staring out the window at the dark world flying by them.

“It could be.” Dean’s hand settled on Sam’s thigh. “You could be making more of this than you need to.”

Sam sighed and nodded. “Maybe.”

Dean’s hand squeezed against his thigh. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

Sam closed his eyes, not sure that he could promise him anything. “What?”

“Promise me you’ll, that if we get there…and you’re right…” Dean looked at him, longing in his eyes. “Promise me that you’ll consider…” He didn’t have to finish. Sam understood.

He took Dean’s hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “I will.”

“Now, get some sleep. I don’t want to be hunting with some half-asleep zombie boy.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, or the way he kept Dean’s hand in his as he laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

 

The warehouse looked the same as they pulled up. The rain was letting up. Dean parked the car and turned off the lights. “Now what?”

Sam pulled the carton of lamb’s blood from the bag. The butcher at the all-night grocery had looked at them like they were Satanists or something out of a bad horror flick, but they’d gotten what they needed. 

He peeled the top off and lifted the knife off the seat. 

“That’s supposed to kill it? The djinn?”

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “That’s what I remember. Silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.”

Dean leaned forward and looked out the windshield at the building. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“It’s plenty, trust me.” Sam opened his door. Dean followed, squinting at Sam before shutting his door. “What?”

He could tell by the look that Dean had more to say. 

“It…just doesn’t sit right Sam.”

Sam moved around the car, holding the knife in his hand. “What?”

“This. This whole damn thing. You say you wished for this. That you want me. So what if it’s because some djinn granted you the wish? This is real. This, you…me…what we have.”

Sam shook his head. “I…I really don’t think it is, Dean.”

Dean made a face and turned away. “Let’s do this.” He trudged through a puddle and into the building, with Sam following along behind him. 

It all looked the same. Rats scurried away and Dean’s flashlight moved over broken office furniture and a beat up type writer. “Don’t see anything, Sam.”

“Quiet. It’ll hear you.” He pointed Dean around the corner. Dean stepped carefully over broken glass. Sam didn’t remember broken glass. He looked around them, watching for the djinn. It had taken him by surprise before. 

Suddenly, Dean stopped in front of him. Sam nearly stabbed him trying to stop too. “Dean…” Sam’s voice trailed off as he ducked around his brother and realized why he’d stopped. Dean was staring at himself…at a mirror image…only the other Dean was hanging from bound wrists and looking like he was just this side of death.

“Now that is freaky.” Dean muttered. Sam shifted, looking at Dean. “Don’t you think that’s freaky, Sam?”

“Yeah Dean.” It went way beyond freaky. It meant he was right. The question was, how did he fix it. Or maybe the question was, did he really want to?

“Got to admit, at this point? I’m way better looking.” Dean said, turning to Sam with a smirk. “No offense,” he tossed aside to himself. 

“I guess this is where I make a choice.” Sam said softly. He closed his eyes. Truth was, he wanted to stay so bad it made his stomach sick. Truth was, that was probably how he knew he really shouldn’t…couldn’t stay.

Dean’s hand was on his face, cupping to his cheek. Sam opened his eyes and wished he hadn’t. Dean was there… _right there_ , his green eyes filled with hope, his lips wet as he licked them. “Kiss me.” Dean whispered, his voice hypnotizing. Sam’s lips parted, met Dean’s. 

Sam tasted coffee and salt and _Dean_ , groaning as Dean breathed into him, drew him closer. Dean’s arms circled around him, holding their bodies close. “Stay with me, Sammy…”

“He needs me.” Sam whispered. 

Dean’s lips were on his ear. “I need you.”

“I have to do the right thing.” Sam tried to pull back, but Dean wasn’t done. 

“Why, Sam? Ask yourself why us? Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven’t we given enough?” He looked up at Sam, tears in his eyes. “Don’t we deserve to be happy?”

Sam blinked at his own tears, then at the absence of the second Dean. “Where’d he go?” 

Dean let go of him and turned. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

Sam shook his head. “No…he was there.”

“And now he isn’t. It’s just me.” Dean reached for his hand, but Sam pulled away. “Sam…we can go…we can go somewhere, anywhere, just the two of us…I’m begging you Sam.”

Sam held up his hand. He could hear something. Like voices. Nearby. Familiar. 

“Don’t leave me Sammy.” Dean’s face was…shattered…devastated.

Sam held out his hand. “I will always love you, want you. This won’t change that.” Sam said. 

“You will always be a girl, Sam.”

“Sam!”

He felt something hit him. 

“Sam!”

Dean backed away and Sam called out to him, his hand reaching out. “Not yet.”

“Sam! Damn it, wake the hell up!”

A fist slammed into his face and his eyes watered. When he got them open again, he was laying on the dirty floor of the warehouse, looking up at his brother and Bobby. He blinked, then reached up to poke Dean.

“Ow!”

Sam rubbed his jaw. “You real?”

“I think so. You?”

Sam sort of shrugged and turned his eyes to Bobby. “What about him?”

“I killed your djinn.” Bobby said dryly, pointing at the slumped over tattooed mass on the nearby stairs.

Sam’s eyes skipped back to Dean. His eyes were sunken and he looked ready to pass out. His lips were dry and cracked. “You okay?”

“Nothing a few pints of blood won’t fix.”

“I’ll get the girl out to the car.” Bobby said, handing Dean a knife.

Dean leaned over Sam and cut at the ropes that bound his wrists together. Sam’s eyes caught on the bruises all around his own wrists, and the angry red, open flesh where the rope had cut deeper.

“Okay, let’s get you up.” Dean tossed the rope aside and helped Sam sit.

His eyes caught on the dried out husks of the ones they didn’t save. 

“Can’t save them all.” Dean said softly.

“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered.

“What?”

Sam shook his head. “I tried….I just, I couldn’t tell what was real.”

“Yeah, me either. Don’t sweat it. We both got out.” Dean lurched up to his feet and offered his hand to Sam. “Good thing you called Bobby though, or we’d probably be toast.”

Sam nodded. “You didn’t answer your phone. I figured it was better to have back up.” They shuffled for the door. Sam reached for Dean, and pulled back. He wanted to kiss him. Hold him. Reassure himself that everything was okay.

But this was the real world, and he didn’t get that here. His hand fell back to his side and they stumbled out into an early morning. Bobby had the girl in his back seat and was climbing in to drive her to the nearest hospital.

“Catch you boys back at your motel.”

Sam waved and sighed. “You okay?” Dean asked and Sam could only nod. He got in the car and Dean drove them away. Sam watched the warehouse disappear behind them, and with it the dream world where Dean wanted him the way he’d wanted Dean his whole life.

 

“The girl’s going to be okay.” Sam said after hanging up the phone. “Bobby says they’ve got her stabilized, and her family is there.”

“Good.” Dean was on the end of the bed, staring at a picture in a magazine. Sam crossed to him, sat on the other bed.

“What about you? You all right?”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He set the magazine aside and swiped a hand over his face. He sighed heavily. “You should have seen it, Sam. Our lives…”

“I think…I think I may did.” Sam said, making his own uncomfortable face. “I dreamed…when I was sleeping…inside…I saw Jess…and Mom…”

Dean nodded, a brief smile flickering over his face. “You were such a wussy.”

Sam chuckled, though his heart was ripping. “But you and me…we didn’t get along?”

Dean shook his head. “Not so much.”

Sam sighed. “I thought it was supposed to be…like this perfect fantasy.”

Dean looked at him, then away. “It wasn’t…it’s just one wish right? I wished Mom was alive. Mom didn’t die, we never hunted. You and I…we just never…”

Sam swallowed the urge to reach across the space separating them and kiss him, hold him until the hurt left his eyes. “I’m glad we do.” Sam said softly. “Glad you were strong enough to pull yourself out. Most people wouldn’t have had the strength.” He wasn’t sure he would have…not by himself. “Most people would have just stayed.”

If Dean hadn’t been there, hitting him…because the Dean in his wish-world wanted him…and Sam wanted him too.

“Yeah, lucky me.” Dean said. He stood, moved across the room. “You were happy though. You had Jess. Mom was going to have grandkids.” Dean sniffed and scuffed a toe on the carpet.

“Yeah, but Dean…it wasn’t real.” He said it half for himself. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

“No…but I wanted to stay.” He looked at Sam, and Sam could see the longing, the pain. He wanted to look away so Dean wouldn’t see the echo in his own eyes…wouldn’t wonder what Sam had left behind. Dean looked at the floor. “I wanted to stay so bad…I mean…ever since Dad...” Dean’s voice trailed off.

Sam nodded and stood. “I know. I did too.” He put his hands in his pockets to keep from touching his brother. 

“I keep thinking that this job has cost us so much.” Dean’s voice was laced with pain. His face was pale and he looked exhausted, like everything they’d been through in the year since their father died was hanging on him at once. “We’ve sacrificed so much.”

Sam knew it was his turn to tell Dean how it was worth it…that the job, the lives they saved was worth the sacrifice, but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. He sighed and nodded. “You have to wonder if it’s worth it sometimes.” He sighed. “When is it our turn to be happy?”

It was quiet for a long moment, then Dean sniffed and squinted in his direction. “You haven’t told me what yours was like.”

“Not important.” Sam muttered. 

“What did you wish for?”

Sam turned away. “I-I wished that….that the yellow eyed demon was gone…but…it was all fucked up.”

He felt Dean cross the room. Felt his brother behind him. “Sam?”

He pushed away the tears, the pain. “I shot him. With the colt.”

Dean’s hand was on his shoulder. It was hot and Sam wanted to lean against Dean. “I killed him, Dean. I killed Dad.” He pulled away. “I shot him when the demon was in him. We…the car never crashed, you never had to hear from him that I might…that you might have to…” His voice trailed off. “We were happy. The two of us, hunting together. “

He needed to stop talking. Before he said something he’d regret. This Dean didn’t want to know about Sam’s perverted feelings, would run the other way if he ever found out. Sam didn’t think he could live with that.

He drew in a deep breath. “You…I kept seeing you though…wasting away. Made me realize I couldn’t stay. And then I heard you calling me…and the other you…the one in my dream, he was begging me to stay. Then you hit me.” Sam rubbed his jaw and smiled softly. “Pulled me out.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, right?” Dean asked, crossing to the window with a frown on his face.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Another cop car. I’m thinking we should hit the road soon.” He watched silently out the window. “Like now. You up for moving?” Dean dropped the curtain and looked at Sam who nodded. 

“If you think you can drive.”

“Call Bobby. Tell him we’ll catch him in a week or so.”

Dean set about packing them up. Sam got their stuff from the bathroom. His head hurt. His body ached with wanting. He tamped it down. It wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Having tasted…having had what he wanted, trying to pretend he didn’t want it anymore was going to make him crazy.

Dean threw their stuff in the car while Sam called Bobby back and relayed the message. They needed to do something to get the cops off their backs. Sam slipped into the car and closed his eyes. Neither of them had slept since…well, since waking up. They would both need to soon, but Sam understood Dean’s need to move.

“Where to?” Sam asked as Dean got behind the wheel.

“Coffee first.” Dean responded. “Then I figured we could go check out that haunting Ellen called about.”

Sam nodded. A job was good. It would help him focus.

 

_Dean’s lips moved over skin as he exposed it, slowly pulling the sheets down, kissing over Sam’s shoulder and down his collar bone, onto his chest. Sam groaned and reached for him, but Dean batted his hands away. “Don’t make me tie you up.” Dean growled, his words wet with desire._

_“Dean…please…”_

_“Told you, my turn….” His tongue joined his lips. Sam was hard and trapped under the sheet and Dean’s body. Dean’s tongue explored through Sam’s navel and Sam arched up, making Dean grin. “Like that Sammy?”_

_Sam moaned and reached for him again. “Dean.”_

The car door slammed and Sam jerked up, hitting his head on the roof. “Morning sunshine.” Dean said, holding out a cup of coffee. “Nice dream?”

Dean was staring pointedly at Sam’s crotch and in dismay Sam realized he was hard. He shifted and dropped a hand to hide it. “Don’t remember.”

“Liar.” Dean said with a smirk. “Who was it this time?”

“No one.” Sam grumbled. If he’d done more than groan…if he’d said Dean’s name…

“Didn’t sound like no one.” Dean started the car. “Maybe next time I won’t wake you up. I’ll just listen.”

Sam slouched in the passenger seat and cradled his coffee in his hands. The knot of panic slowly loosened in his stomach. Dean really didn’t know. Sam drank down his coffee, determined now that he wouldn’t sleep. 

If he didn’t sleep, he couldn’t dream. 

No dreams, no dreams about Dean and sex.

And Dean would never know.

 

Sam banged into the room ahead of Dean and slammed into the bathroom. He started the shower and stripped. His cock was dark red and aching. It hadn’t really gone down since the dream, staying semi-hard as they’d driven and found the site for the haunting. 

Every time he turned around Dean was right there, _right there_ , and every sight of his ass, his hands, his neck had Sam fighting down his arousal.

Dean pounded on the door as Sam climbed into the shower.

“Sam?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Sam called, letting the water spill over his back while he wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled. He just needed to deal with it. Accept it, jack off and move on. 

He closed his eyes, remembering the way Dean touched him…a combination of gentleness and roughness…teeth and tongue…gripping Sam’s wrists tightly, but kissing him softly. 

Sam braced himself against the wall and leaned in, imagining it was Dean’s hand…Dean’s mouth…He groaned, then remembered Dean in the other room. He bit his lip then and stroked harder. He added a little twist at the tip as he got close and his lip slipped from his teeth as his orgasm started. “Dean.”

He froze, not even sure he’d said it out loud. He panted as he came and tried to listen for his brother. The water washed away the evidence and his cock mostly softened in his hand. He got out of the shower and dried off, pulling his jeans back on and padding out of the bathroom.

Dean was on the bed, earphones in, listening to whatever mullet rock he’d found on local radio. Sam sighed in relief, figuring he was safe. He threw himself on the bed with the file Ellen had given them.

Easy enough hunt. As hunts go. Simple ghost.

Simple.

He sighed. Nothing in their lives was ever simple. He felt Dean’s eyes and looked up. Dean looked away.

The other Dean had told him he didn’t care about how wrong it was to want his brother, to want to kiss and touch and fuck his brother. That wrong just didn’t apply to them. The other Dean had wanted Sam, the Sam way Sam had always wanted Dean.

But the real Dean…his Dean…he didn’t want Sam. In his perfect world, Sam was with Jessica. Engaged even. In Dean’s dream, Sam had been happy with Jessica, hadn’t looked at Dean with longing. 

His Dean would care that it was wrong. His Dean had a mandate from their father to take care of Sam. Not just the one that came the night their mother died, but a second one the day that their father died. 

To take care of Sam, even if that meant killing him.

His head hurt. Again. It was starting to feel like it did when…He reached for his head as it came, images racing through him so fast he couldn’t focus on them…faces, dirt, yellow eyes. He gasped and sat up, cradling his head in his hands.

Dean was there instantly, hands on Sam’s shoulder, his concerned eyes catching on Sam’s.

Sam nodded and dragged in air. “I’m okay.”

“What was it?”

Sam shook his head lightly. “I don’t…just…flashes.” Suddenly one of the faces came clear of the tangled mess. “Andy.”

Dean lifted an eyebrow. “Stoner? What about him?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t see much.”

Dean backed off a step. “The whole vision thing is getting awfully annoying Sam. I mean first it doesn’t even give us enough warning to do anything to save people, and now it’s not even enough to figure out what’s going on…”

“I’ll call Andy.” Sam said, standing and reaching for his phone. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“Right, because you always have random visions of nothing.” Dean said.

Sam sighed and looked at him. “What do you want from me Dean?”

Dean’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he responded. “I want you to stop lying to me, Sam.”

Sam stopped with his hand on the door to the room. “Why would I lie to you?” He looked at Dean. 

Dean wouldn’t look at him. He was staring at the bed, like he expected it to move. “I don’t know. But I haven’t said anything. I’ve waited and I’ve waited Sam. I know you’re hiding something. And…I just want you to admit it.”

Sam held his breath. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

Dean’s face was set, angry. He nodded tightly. “Right.”

“Dean—“

Dean held up his hand. “I’m not stupid Sam. Something is bothering you. Something’s been bothering you…at first I figured it was just you and Dad, right? So you went to school. Then, I chalked it up to you losing Jessica. And I got that. I really did. Then there was Dad, and I just kept waiting for you to get over it. But you don’t.”

Dean flashed his eyes at Sam. “I can’t help you Sam. Not unless I know what’s going on.”

That, at least, was something Sam could latch onto. “Maybe it’s time you stopped being my guardian then Dean.” He said it quietly in the silence that followed Dean’s words. “Maybe it’s time we take care of ourselves a little bit.”

Dean sat slowly on the bed. “You must hate me.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. “What?” He was sure he had to have heard him wrong. 

“It wasn’t Dad that drove you away, was it?” Dean kept his back to Sam, stared at the floor.

Sam moved closer. He had no idea where this had come from. “Honestly? No.” Sam closed his eyes. His body was tense, his breathing coming in short gasps. 

“It was me.” It wasn’t a question. “And I dragged you back.”

Sam couldn’t believe where this whole thing was headed. “I don’t hate you.” He had to end this. Had to get them back on safer ground. “You’re my brother.”

Dean nodded and sighed. “My brother. And I make you miserable.” He stood. “Go on. Call Andy. I’m gonna shower.”

Sam stared at him as he disappeared into the bathroom and tried to figure out how the conversation had turned…how Dean had come to the conclusion that Sam hated him. He blew out and looked at his phone. 

He could call Andy in the morning. What he needed right that moment was a drink and time away from Dean.

 

Sam crawled back two hours later, smelling of cheap whiskey and the blonde who had fallen all over him, and bought him booze until he’d followed her into the alley. It wasn’t like him…but he had to go back to Dean, and he couldn’t face him…and she was warm and knew what to do with her mouth.

If Dean heard him come in, he didn’t say a word, just kept on pretending to be asleep…which was fine with Sam. He’d sleep, and in the morning they would figure out the damn ghost and…he wasn’t sure what would come after that.

He fell into bed, not even bothering to undress.

He woke with sunlight making his head pound. He felt like shit. Like he’d gotten drunk on cheap alcohol. He lifted his head, squinting in the perfect ray of light that landed perfectly on his face through the curtains. On the nightstand was a bottle of water, a bottle of aspirin and a note.

He reached for the aspirin, downed three and slammed half the bottle of water before he reached for the note.

“Sleep it off. We leave when I get back. Dean.”

So. His brother was still pissed. Sam crashed back to the bed with a moan. Everything was going to hell. Including him.

It was nearly noon. He crawled out of bed. He smelled like cigarettes and sex. He peeled out of his clothes on his way to the bathroom. He just wanted to wash the stink off him and crawl back to bed. Sleep for a month.

It was almost three hours later when Dean finally came back. He didn’t look at Sam as he gathered the few things that had been taken out of bags and such.

“You okay?” Dean asked as he grabbed the aspirin bottle.

Sam nodded, though his head was killing him.

“I called Andy. He’s fine.”

Sam nodded again. 

“Called Bobby too. He’s headed home.”

“What about us?” Sam didn’t look up.

“We’re going to head west. Maybe stop by the Roadhouse.”

Sam couldn’t argue. He had no where else to go. He followed Dean to the car. The first few miles were long, silent. Dean didn’t even have the radio on.

It was getting dark before Sam got up the nerve to say anything.

“Dean, can we talk?”

Dean licked his lips. “You going to be honest with me?”

Sam looked out the window. “I…I don’t know if I can.”

“Then I don’t want to talk.” Dean flipped on the radio. Sam nodded and withdrew. Maybe it was better. If Dean thought Sam hated him, he wouldn’t suspect the truth.

“You want me to drive?” Sam asked a few hours later when Dean was yawning.

Dean shook his head. “We’ll stop.” He pointed at a motel. Dean got them a room, and Sam followed him into it, not even looking up. “They were out of doubles.” Dean said when Sam finally stopped, dropping his bag on the bed.

Great. Sam sighed and nodded. “Not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

Dean nodded and put his bag on the desk, turning his back to Sam and fumbling with it while Sam tried to decide if he wanted to try talking again. He sighed again and sat on the bed, staring at the carpet.

Suddenly, there was a hand in front of him. A hand with an envelope. He sat back and looked up at Dean. “Take it Sam.”

“What is it?” 

“Just take it.” 

Sam lifted a hand and took the envelope, still looking at Dean, who moved away quickly once it was gone. Sam opened it, staring uncomprehendingly into the envelope. “Dean?”

He cleared his throat and played with something so he wouldn’t have to look at Sam. “Yeah…I, uh…talked to this woman at Stanford…and…they didn’t hold your spot open, but she says you could re-apply…and with your grades and everything? Maybe not the whole scholarship, but you could…I don’t know…”

Sam stared at the plane ticket. It was a flight out of Denver in two days. “I don’t understand.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “You deserve to be happy, Sam.”

Sam stood slowly. “Are you…you’re kicking me out?”

“What?” Dean turned suddenly, shaking his head. “No. Sam…I want you to be happy.” He held out his arms in a surrendering gesture. “You’re not. And no matter how many things we hunt down and kill, no matter how much you tell me you want to do this…I can’t make you happy. You were happy there. I saw it.” Dean ran a hand over his face. “You were happy with Jessica until I pulled you away. Pulled you back into this shit…and I’m done. I don’t want it anymore.”

Dean turned away again. Sam’s head was spinning. Dean was sending him away. “Dean…I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Dean’s exhale was ragged and shaky. “Sam…I can’t keep doing this with you. I can’t stand the way you can’t stand to be in a room with me, the way you look at me like it’s my fault…I can’t let you keep hating me.”

“God Dean.” Sam licked his lips. “I don’t hate you.” He said it slowly, carefully.

“No? Then what is it?” Dean asked. “You run from me to hide in the bathroom. You leave me and go drink yourself into some whore’s arms. You barely say two words to me in the car. I can feel you staring at me.”

“I don’t hate you. I could never…you’re my brother.”

“You keep saying that Sam. Like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

He was. Trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t want the things he wanted.

He’d never seen Dean so…vulnerable. “I didn’t leave because I hated you.” He closed his eyes, dropped the envelope on the bed. “I’ve never hated you.”

Dean huffed.

“I left…” Sam swallowed. His heart fell into his stomach, twisting into knots. “I left so that you wouldn’t hate me,” he finally said. “You want the truth Dean? You want to know what I’m hiding?”

“What are you saying Sam? Why…how could I possibly hate you?” 

“When you know…when I tell you, you’re going to hate me. You’re going to send me away.” He looked back at the envelope. “Maybe…since you are anyway…I mean, what’s it going to hurt, right?”

Big, wet tears fell from his eyes and he sniffed. What did he have to lose? He cleared his throat. “You asked me what I wished for…when the djinn…when it had me.”

Dean was facing him now, looking right at him. “You said it was about the demon.”

“I lied.” Sam heaved a breath, trying to make room in his chest. 

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was gentle. Sam felt him move closer. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t look at him and say it. “Sam…what did you wish for?” 

It took him a few tries to get the word out, and when he did it was little more than a whisper. “You.”

Dean’s hand was on his arm, soft, warm. Sam pulled away. He didn’t want Dean to be caring right now. He dragged air into protesting lungs and turned. “You. I wished…for you.”

“I don’t think I understand.” 

Of course he didn’t understand. What the fuck was Sam thinking? This was Dean. Dean Winchester. Who would never, ever even consider…not for one moment. Not with Sam. Probably not with any guy. He was a tits and ass man. Sam huffed and crossed his arms.

“I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.” Sam closed his eyes, breathing through the rising nausea. “I wished…and I woke up…and you were there…in my bed. And you wanted me too. And…it was good Dean…and you…” He licked his lips. “You loved me. Told me that wrong didn’t matter.” Sam knew he should stop. Should just take the plane ticket and beat it the hell out of there before his brother decided to keep his promise to their father. “I can still taste you….when he kissed me…” Sam’s hand brushed his lips. “I knew it wasn’t real…and I didn’t care. You loved me.”

Surely this was a sign of Sam falling to evil…maybe he’d always been evil. “I never meant for you to know. I went to Stanford because I couldn’t hide it anymore…and I tried…I mean…there were…others, you know? But they weren’t you…they could never be you.”

Sam’s face was wet and he ran a hand over his cheeks. The room was quiet. After a long silence, Sam finally dared a look. Dean had his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. Sam wiped his nose on his sleeve and crossed to the bed, grabbing his bag and the envelope. “I’ll just…I can get to Denver on my own.”

He had the door open when Dean’s voice stopped him. “Sam?”

Sam figured Dean would tell him to never come back, to forget he ever had a brother. Figured this was the end.

“Close the door and come sit down.”

Sam did as he was told, not really sure why. He sat gingerly on the end of the bed. Dean pulled a chair over. He didn’t touch Sam. Didn’t really look at him. “I need to understand.”

Sam nodded. “Okay.” He thought he’d explained it fairly well…but he wasn’t being hit yet, and Dean hadn’t exploded.

Dean licked his lips, glanced up at Sam, then back at the floor between them. “So…you’re telling me that the big secret is that you’re gay?”

Sam blinked. Obviously Dean was…in shock. It wasn’t sinking in. “Dean…I…” He sighed heavily. “I’ve never really…did you hear me?”

Dean nodded slowly. “I’m just making sure I understand. You said there were others…I’m assuming you meant guys…because I knew about Jess.”

Sam exhaled. “Yes, there were. Guys I wanted to be you.”

“Before or after you left?”

“What? Both…both.” Dean’s reaction wasn’t making sense to him.

“I’ve never been…you know…with a guy. Well, unless you count that tranny in LA…” Dean pursed his lips and whistled. “Now she had a tongue—“

“Dean.” Sam bit off the anguish as Dean looked up at him.

“Right.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “This is why you’ve been…like this?”

“Well…that and I thought you’d…you know…” Sam looked at him, but he couldn’t figure out why Dean wasn’t pummeling him, or kicking him out the door…”I figured, you’d think I was a freak.”

Dean sort of shrugged. “You’ve always been a freak Sam.”

Dean’s eyes rose…from the floor, to Sam’s eyes. They held. No wavering. Sam could feel his heart pounding at the walls of his chest, his lungs struggling to move the air through him. This was it.

Dean surged across the space separating them and Sam cringed, pulled away, expecting the worst. Dean’s hands didn’t hit him though, they cupped his face, holding him as Dean’s mouth pressed against his…hot, dry.

It was awkward and Sam kept falling backward, pulling Dean with him until Sam was on his back and Dean had one knee on the bed. Sam’s head whited out when he felt his brother’s tongue, sliding along his lip, seeking, testing.

Almost without thinking, Sam’s lips opened and Dean’s tongue tentatively dipped inside before pulling back. Sam didn’t open his eyes, didn’t want to see Dean’s reaction…the horror, disgust.

His hand was moving now, flat against Sam’s chest. “Hey. You okay?”

Sam shook his head. He might never be okay. Not when his brother was laying against him like that. “Look at me.”

Sam blinked. Dean was looking down at him. “Did I do it okay? I mean…I’ve been told I’m good at the kissing.”

Sam lifted a hand to his mouth, touching his tingling lips. “Yeah…it was…you were…”

Dean grinned, clearly enjoying Sam’s confusion. “Figured I had to pop you one or kiss you. Kissing seemed to be the better choice.”

“You…you kissed me.” Sam said, his voice filled with wonder and touched with fear.

“I’m going to do it again too.” Dean warned before he did. Just did. Leaned in and put his lips on Sam’s…and the second time wasn’t quite as awkward, but still as strange and surreal…and damn if he didn’t taste the same…just like before…when it wasn’t real.

Sam shook his head. Maybe this wasn’t real. He pinched Dean’s arm. 

“Ow! What?”

“I’m dreaming.” Sam murmured.

“Then why are you pinching me?” Dean asked.

Sam swallowed and looked up at his brother. “I don’t understand.”

Dean moved, straddled over him. “I thought I was being obvious.” He slid against Sam, his denim clad thighs pressing in against Sam’s. Sam’s cock had hardened visibly and he held his breath as Dean looked down at him. “At least parts of you understand.”

“Dean…I—“ Sam pulled himself out from under his brother, up the bed toward the pillows. “Stop.”

“Stop?” Dean sat back and looked at him.

Sam nodded, his head bobbing erratically. This was wrong. Somehow. And his brain was still trying to catch up, even if his body was already there. “Just…I don’t think I can handle it if you…you know…tease me about this.”

“Sam, look at me.”

Sam sniffed and wiped his face, his eyes flicking Dean’s direction tentatively. Dean was pulling off his shirt, tossing it behind him.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked breathlessly. 

“I’m getting undressed.” Dean replied. He had his jeans undone and as he started to pull them down, Sam couldn’t help but stare. He’d seen his brother naked before. He’d even seen his brother aroused. But not like this.

When Dean was down to nothing but his socks, he stood, held out his arms. Sam pulled his eyes away. “Dean…” he moaned the name, his hand falling self-consciously to his cock, trying to hide the way it responded to the sight.

Dean grinned and came closer. “Now. Your turn.” 

He reached for Sam and after a small struggle, got his zipper open. Sam pushed his hands away. “Dean, god…just…stop.” He exhaled and tried to reconcile the raging lust and the way his head was screaming that this wasn’t real. “I need…I need to…fuck, Dean.”

Dean was lazily stroking his own cock which was fully hard now.

“Not like this.” Sam said.

“Like what?”

Sam swallowed. “You don’t want this. You…you’re—“ 

Dean stepped closer, his cock in Sam’s face. “Evidence says otherwise Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “No…you’re just….you’re not gay.” He closed his eyes, not even knowing what he was saying.

“Neither are you Sam.” Dean whispered, suddenly right there, his lips on Sam’s ear. “I love you.” His lips moved over Sam’s jaw, even as his hands moved over Sam’s hips, down to his jeans…and Sam was lifting his ass without thinking.

Dean’s mouth was warm, his hands confident as they pulled Sam’s jeans down, off…then came back to Sam’s cock. They both looked as Dean’s hand closed around him. Sam’s whole body tensed, jerked up as Dean’s hand dragged up his cock, dry and hot and this was Dean….his Dean. The real Dean. 

Sam grabbed his wrist, stopped his movement. “Why?” he asked breathlessly.

Dean leaned in, not taking his hand away. “Because I want to.” Dean whispered in Sam’s ear. He kissed his way to Sam’s other ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Sam’s head fell back against the wall and a sound that was part whimper, part moan escaped him. “You…I just want you.” Sam gasped as Dean moved to kiss him again. The awkward was melting away as Dean warmed to the idea, to taking charge. He was on the bed, his cock pressed to Sam’s naked thigh.

“Got me, Sam.” Dean whispered, his hands working now to get Sam’s shirt off. Once he had it, Dean tossed it away and kissed Sam again, his confidence building, his tongue surging into Sam’s mouth, taking possession of it. “What next?” 

Sam couldn’t make his brain function, couldn’t think past _Dean, Dean, Dean_ on endless repeat in his head. The bed moved as Dean climbed back onto it , leaning over Sam. “Tell me where to touch you.” Dean said softly, his lips sliding over Sam’s neck. His hands skimmed over Sam’s chest, paused at his nipple, playing with it.

“Dean…” He whined and reached a hand to cup the back of his brother’s head , drawing his mouth to that same nipple. Dean licked it, rolled it a little under his tongue. Sam hissed and Dean chuckled. 

“I see you like that too?” He nipped then, his teeth grasping the hardened nub and pulling lightly before letting go and letting his tongue sooth the sting. He moved to the other nipple and repeated the whole thing. 

Sam’s cock was leaking, aching…Sam reached for it, but Dean’s hands stopped him. “Let me.”

“Dean.” Sam lifted up to convince him to stop, but Dean’s mouth touched him and sent electric current through him and his next words were lost in a ramble of _fuck_ and _Dean_ and _yespleaseyesmore_ until Sam grabbed him in warning, his cock spewing.

Dean pulled up and away, but not before some of it splash his face. Sam pulled on him and sat up, pulling Dean in to kiss, and licking up the come. “Kinky bastard.” Dean whispered appreciatively as he pulled away.

His own cock was harder now, deep red and Sam wanted to feel him, to have him inside him. He couldn’t deny the desire, the need. He ran a single finger over Dean’s cock and Dean shivered. “I want you.” Sam whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned in, kissing over his brother’s mouth. “I want you inside me Dean…I want to feel you…need…”

He opened his eyes, and met Dean’s. He wasn’t sure what he saw there…only knew he had to…he had to or Sam might die. Sam reached for the floor by the bed where his bag was. He didn’t carry lube like he used to, but he had a tube of hand lotion that was better than nothing. Dean was watching him…waiting.

Sam squirted some into his hand and warmed it, rubbing his hands together before reaching for Dean. His hand slid slick around Dean’s cock and Dean’s eyes fluttered closed briefly. He moved his free hand behind him, pushing two fingers up inside him. It had been so long since anyone had been inside him, so long and he was tight and he knew this wouldn’t be enough…but for now…for this…

He started to turn, to offer his ass up, but Dean caught him, dragged him in to kiss. “Want to see you.” Dean’s voice was low, with more uncertainty that Sam was used to. “Want to.”

“God, Dean…It’s just easier…”

Dean shook his head. “Don’t want easy Sam. Want you.”

Sam’s throat constricted and he laid back, spreading his legs and trying not to think as Dean came with him, sliding between Sam’s legs, his cock slicking over his thighs. Sam bent his knees, tilted his hips and reached for Dean’s cock, guiding it. 

“I’ve…never…” Dean cleared his throat, braced himself on the bed on either side of Sam.

“Easy.” Sam murmured. He nestled the tip against the tight hole of his ass. “Now…push.”

Dean did and Sam willed the lotion to be enough. He held his breath as Dean eased in past the outer ring and froze. “Sam?”

“It’s okay….go on…” Dean’s eyes were closed, his face tense. Sweat beaded across his brow. Sam focused on relaxing, on letting him in, on feeling the stretch and burn and fuck but he was getting hard again. “Ease out…just a little.” Sam whispered. “Now…in again.” 

It took a few long minutes of working him open but then Dean was fully inside him and Sam gasped, relishing the feeling of fullness and _Dean_.

“Look at me.” Dean’s voice was throaty and deep, almost a growl and Sam looked up, into his brother’s green eyes all dark and filled with emotion. “This is real.” He flexed a little, pushing a little deeper into Sam and Sam’s eyes rolled before coming back to Dean’s. “This is me, Sam.”

Just like in the dream, on the car, Sam couldn’t touch enough of his brother, running his hands over Dean’s arms, pulling him down to kiss. “Fuck me Dean.” Sam begged in his ear. “Need to feel you…”

Dean’s movements weren’t proper thrusts, more like tiny pulses inside him, but Sam didn’t care. He held on and he surrendered and he begged until he felt the warm, wet flush of Dean’s come, felt Dean’s hand on his own cock, coaxing it toward his second orgasm. Dean slipped out of him, curling and landing on his back next to Sam.

It was quiet a long time before Sam found the strength to speak. “You okay?”

Dean’s face was unreadable. “Honestly? Don’t know.”

It was another long silence, then Dean looked at him. “Did I hurt you?”

Sam shook his head. It was awkward, but how could it not be?

“I’m going to shower.” Sam said finally, getting up a little stiffly.

He wasn’t sure how to react to this…couldn’t read what was going on in Dean’s mind. Not sure how this affected Dean’s decision to send him away…not sure it should. Maybe…maybe this was just Dean’s way of giving him something…one more fucked up thing in the role of big brother who would do anything for him…before Sam went away.

Sam ducked under the spray and ran a hand through his hair. He started when Dean slid into the shower with him. “Dean?”

“What? It sounded good.” He reached around Sam and grabbed the shampoo. “Besides, I figured you were in here over thinking it as usual.” Sam shifted around to let him under the water.

Dean stuck his head into the stream of water, his hand on Sam’s chest, holding him to the spot. “I don’t want you thinking I did it just because you wanted it.”

That was exactly why Dean did it. Why Dean did anything. Everything.

“I mean it Sam. Don’t go getting all morose on me over this.”

Sam nodded slowly, then leaned in to kiss him. Soft, tender. Dean didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. “Yeah, okay.”

Maybe it wasn’t perfect and maybe Dean didn’t really want him the way Sam wanted Dean…but he wasn’t disgusted by it…and maybe, for the moment, that was enough.

 

“I’m starving.” Sam’s stomach was rumbling loudly and Dean chuckled.

“All that exercise.” He pointed at the sign. “Café a few miles ahead.”

“Good.” Sam shifted uncomfortably on the seat. Dean had spent two days making very sure that Sam was okay, or maybe he was proving that he sincere…either way, Sam’s body was achy and his ass was still sore. 

Like anything else his brother embraced, Dean learned his way around Sam’s body fast. Dean’s hand fell on his knee and Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t even tell me you could go again.”

Dean chuckled. “You know I can, Sam. I’m insatiable.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth and Sam leaned over to suck it into his mouth.

“Yes, you are.” Dean pulled them off the road and up in front of a really small café. 

Sam reached for the door and Dean’s hand stopped him. “Get me a burger. Extra onions.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude. Always with the extra onions and I’m the one who has to deal with your extra onion breath.”

Dean smirked and pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips. “You love me and my extra onions.” 

Sam made a growling sound and got out of the car. 

“Get me some pie!” Dean called. 

Sam waved back at him and headed for the door. He looked back at Dean, who was happily pounding out the rhythm to whatever song he’d found on the radio, his fingers beating on the steering wheel.

Dean was…well, Dean. Despite the last three days. Despite everything. He seemed happier even. There was no more talk of Sam going back to school. No talk of Dean leaving Sam on the side of the road. They bickered and bantered the same as always.

The only difference was that they only needed one bed, and when their eyes met there was a little something more there. Then, of course there was the sex. Sam smiled. The sex was good.

He took a deep breath. He’d always thought Dean was the one thing he wanted and the one thing he could never have. The djinn had given him his wish after all….and damn if that didn’t just beat it all.


End file.
